


Two Questions

by Aleatory



Series: Sunlight is Like Gold [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Eighties Songs, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Music, Song Lyrics, Trickster Gabriel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-18 15:33:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2353478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aleatory/pseuds/Aleatory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Gabriel (but mostly Gabriel) start a prank war involving a lot of dumb eighties songs. Sam looks a little too closely at a few of the lyrics. Second in a series of three.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Questions

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second part in a three work thing about Sam and Gabriel and music. Go check out "Three Questions" for a better perspective on this one!

There are no windows in the bathroom, because the place is partially underground, so it’s always dark. Granted, it’d be dark anyway, as it is one in the morning and Sam’s just trying to empty his bladder before he finally goes to bed. He gives the wall a pat-down in search of the light switch.

 **“I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO, I’M ALWAYS IN THE DARK,”** at the decibel level of a freight train accompanies the lights, which are dimmed so he can just see the outline of the bathroom. **“LIVIN’ IN A POWDER KEG AND-”** a volley of sparks erupt from somewhere near the bathtub- **_“GIVING OFF SPARKS!”_**

Sam’s shoulders slump in defeat. This had to be the third time this week, and it was only Tuesday. “ _Gabriel_!” he shouts over his shoulder, trying to be heard over the synth buildup.

“ ** _I REALLY NEED YOU TONIIIGHT!”_**

“Gabriel, I just want to-”

 **“FOREVER’S GONNA START TONIGHT,”** the song continues.

“I’m just trying-”

“FOREVER’S GONNA START TONIIIIIIGHT.”

 _“I just want to piss and go to sleep, please make Bonnie Taylor stop singing in my bathroom.”_ Sam projects, because he knows damn well the archangel is behind this, and he knows Gabriel doesn’t just prank and walk away. He’s always around to watch the fallout.

The song drops in volume immensely as Gabriel pops his head in the doorway. “It’s Bonnie _Tyler,_ Sam. Classic song. Buuuuut, since you asked nicely…”

It hadn’t been nice, exactly, but Gabriel usually doesn’t put up much of a fuss once Sam calls him out on what he’s done, which Sam appreciates greatly. “I’m going to sleep,” he states, running his fingers through his hair.

“Okay. But I got you _good,_ didn’t I?” Gabriel puts a hand over his heart in mock sentiment and sings, “ _Total eclipse of the heart”_ with the final chorus as the song fades out.

Sam very badly wants to just bitch-face him away, but his lips are turning up at the corners despite all his best efforts. “Turn around; leave,” he manages to dead-pan. Gabriel obeys.

\--

 ** _“POUR SOME SUGAR ON MEEEEE!”_** erupts from the sugar bowl when Sam’s making coffee the next morning. Cas jumps, then frowns.

“Sorry, Cas,” Sam says as he puts the lid back on the bowl, _hard._ The ceramic lid muffles the sound, but only to an extent, because it brings Dean to the kitchen as though he’s been summoned.

Dean goes straight for the fridge. “Didn’t know you were into Def Leppard. I dig it, though.”

“I’m _not,”_ Sam insists, although he doesn’t have anything against the band, necessarily. “It’s Gabriel.”

“You rang?” The angel appears leaning against the side of the fridge, and it’s Dean’s turn to jump, the way he used to when Cas appeared out of the blue. Gabriel doesn’t acknowledge him, keeping his eyes locked on Sam, instead.

Sam manages an actual bitch-face this time. “My sugar is playing Def Leppard.” Indeed, the song is playing on, unhampered by the lid. “I know for a fact that Cas’ creamer did not do this earlier.”

“Duh.” The angel tilts his head a little, but doesn’t break eye contact, and something about that makes Sam edgy. He walks away from the musical sugar and his too-bitter coffee to sit at the table, getting some space between them, as Gabriel continues, “It’s a song for _you,_ Sam. I found it fitting.”

“ _I’m hot, sticky sweet, from my head, to my feet yeah,”_ is still playing inside the sugar bowl, and, as it breaks into the guitar solo, Sam pauses to think for a minute about the rest of the lyrics. It’s a song about sex, definitely. Gabriel is still staring at him, eyes glinting like he’s just waiting for Sam to catch on- to what, exactly?

Previously on life with Gabriel, the archangel had explained that he’d meant the song _“Heat of the Moment”_ as something of an apology for everything that he did at the Mystery Spot. The first line was, after all, “ _I never meant to be so bad to you”,_ and Gabriel had thought it was the most obvious thing in the world.Gabriel had chosen this incredibly sexual song for _him,_ and if he means it seriously… Maybe Sam’s overthinking it, but his mind is stuck on the idea of sex, and sex with Gabriel, sugar sweet lips and-

“Sugar!” Gabriel bursts out, in frustration. “It’s in your sugar bowl, and it’s called _Pour Some-”_

“I know,” Sam snaps, head still full of filthy images that he didn’t ask for at the goddamn breakfast table.

“Plus I _like_ screwing with you. You know that.” The music has stopped, thank god, because he’s not sure he could handle any more suggestive lyrics at this point.

Sam drops his head to his palm. “I know that.” Setting him off like this at breakfast with those predatory golden eyes and thoughts of very _sweet_ lovemaking was just too far. Hell, Bonnie Tyler at one a.m. had been too far. It was time to strike back.

This is why the next time Gabriel tries to pick up Sam’s phone, it starts playing _“867-5309”_ at top volume. He whips around to see Sam, holding Dean’s phone and laughing. Gabriel grins. “Alright, you got me there,” he admits as he hangs up the incoming call. Sam’s pranks might be short on special effects, but the fact that Sam is playing too makes him happy.

\--

The next few days are a flurry of dumb eighties songs, and Sam’s keeping score. To use a song already played would be agony in the points department. There’s a shakily established system- more points for creative song choice, more points for how surprised the other is, and minimal points to special effects, because Sam calls that completely unfair. Even with the considerable disadvantage of not having powers, it’s fun. Gabriel makes him happy in such unexpected ways- suddenly a few bars of _“Keep On Loving You”_ stuck in his head puts him in a good mood.

Gabriel hits back within only a few hours. “ _What I Like About You”_ plays from inside his closet when he goes to get undressed at the end of the day, which means that asshole must know that Sam always hops on one foot to take his shoes and socks off- Gabriel’s started the song at the line “ _you really know how to dance”_ and Sam has to sit down because he’s laughing so hard. Still, he’s impressed with his own abilities, because he’s gotten very good at planting his phone where Gabriel doesn’t notice. That’s how he manages to play “ _Burnin’ Down the House”_ when Gabriel starts the stove, earning a frustrated “That was one time!” in response.

 _“You Spin Me Right Round”_ plays when he tries to use the microwave; he rigs the Impala radio to play the beginning of _“Love Shack”_ as soon as Gabriel touches it. The calendar now plays the full chorus of _“Take on me”_ whenever he touches it, but he’s already struck back with _“Walk like an Egyptian”_ on a motion sensor in Gabriel’s doorway. _“Come On Eileen”_ from Gabriel; _“Under Pressure”_ from Sam; _“Jesse’s Girl”_ from Gabriel; _“Our Lips are Sealed”_ from Sam; _“Don’t You Want Me?”_ from Gabriel; _“I Want Candy”_ from Sam (that one earns a groan because it’s just so _bad_ )- it just keeps going.

But it’s not until one of the computers in the bunker starts playing _“Just like Heaven”_ when he goes to make a note about angels that he realizes- there’s a pattern to the songs Gabriel picks. _“Why won’t you ever know that I’m in love with you?”_ He should have guessed.

He should have fucking guessed that the angel would choose to confess romantic feelings through teasing and songs so well-known that most overlooked the lyrics. It’s a carefully worded message, easy to deny if necessary, but spelled right out for him. _“You: soft and only, you: lost and lonely, you: just like heaven…”_ At least, he hopes that’s what it is.

\--

He runs into Gabriel in one of the back rooms of the bunker, where the archangel is poking at some of the strange devices piled up on the shelves. “Sam,” he greets cheerfully, “what brings you back here?”

“Was about to ask you the same,” Sam replies.

“Just curious about what you all have back here. I’ve never seen most of this, actually.” When Sam looks surprised, he continues, “What? I’m not _Dad,_ I don’t know about _everything_ that’s ever existed.”

Sam brushes the comment off, notices that his palms are sweating, and says cautiously, “I just wanted to ask you something. Something kinda personal.”

“Say no more.” Gabriel snaps and a table and chairs appear, along with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Sam hesitantly sits down across from Gabriel, who’s looking at him with a little smile, chin resting on his hand. “ _Hast du etwas zeit für mich_ ,” he says brightly.

Sam blinks. “What?”

“Come on, Sam. _99 Luftballoons,_ Nena, nineteen-eighty-three?” He clearly doesn’t get the recognition he wants because he sighs and explains. “It means ‘have you some time for me,’ but the English version replaces it with ‘you and me in a little toy shop.’ Both work.” He picks up his mug and sips.

“How have you been choosing these songs?”

Gabriel lowers the mug a bit, suddenly looking guarded again, which happens when anyone gets too accusatory, and there’s a slight ruffling sound- the wings are out. Sam doesn’t know if that’s a defensive thing, or if the angel’s preparing to take off. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, I was just…” Sam swallows. He’d hoped this would go over better, but… sitting on their feelings wouldn’t do either of them any good. “I was looking at your song choices…”

“And?”

Sam drops his head to his hands, and delivers his second question to the table. “Are you trying to tell me that you like me?”

Gabriel sets his mug down so hard it sloshes. “You’re too goddamn smart, Winchester.”

Sam looks up with a smile. “Come on, after Mystery Spot-”

Gabriel isn’t smiling back. “It was The Cure, wasn’t it? I was pushing it too far?” Sam starts to protest, but finds himself without voice, and he doesn’t know if it’s nerves, or if Gabriel just doesn’t want to hear him. “Stupid angel, using the same tricks over and over. Fool me twice, huh?” Gabriel draws a shaky breath, and suddenly Sam wonders if Gabriel’s lashing out at _himself_. “Gig’s up, I’m a coward. I’m glad I at least make a good punchline,” he says with a certain harsh finality, and then he’s gone, with a flutter of wings.

The mug of hot chocolate sits, barely touched and cooling rapidly, and somehow that’s the saddest part.

\--

Sam ends up thinking like a hunter in order to find Gabriel, who’s avoiding everyone and only makes his presence in the bunker known by the fact that they still have quality WiFi and the occasional flutter of wings too noisy to be Castiel’s. But there are places he knows Gabriel goes, even though the human can’t seem to catch him in any of them. He’s too listless for pranks or music, but certain things in the bunker draw him in like a sigil.

This is why Gabriel finds a folded scrap of paper tucked in the piano’s keys.

Sam’s handwriting, three lines: _“I used to think maybe you loved me, now baby I’m sure,”_ followed by “ _And I just can’t wait ‘till the day when you knock on my door.”_ Underneath is simply scrawled “Walking on Sunshine, 1983.” And, down in the bottom corner of the paper is “(Seriously)”.

\--

Sam opens his bedroom door at a long-expected knock to find the archangel looking at him in disbelief. “Katrina and the Waves, Sam? _That’s_ your bait?”

“It brought you here, didn’t it?” Sam sasses right back.

“I am here,” Gabriel asserts, “because this needed to be addressed.” He twirls the piece of paper in his fingers. “If you think I’m gonna-”

“I didn’t ask you,” Sam interrupts, “about your song choices to make you feel stupid, or cowardly, or anything at all like that. That’s not at all what I meant.”

“I know,” Gabriel sighs, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I shouldn’t have flipped out on you, and…” He sighs. “You just wanted the truth about it.”

“No, I asked because I _like_ you, and I wanted to make sure you like me _too,_ ” Sam says quietly, tilting his head down and in an attempt to make eye contact. Gabriel doesn’t respond, just flicks his eyes up to meet Sam’s questioningly.

“I dismissed everything else as wishful thinking,” Sam rushes, “but then, yeah, it was The Cure that gave it away. And I was trying to tell you… the truth. Which is that I like you.” The words are somehow coming out all wrong- _I like you_ doesn’t nearly encompass everything Sam feels- because he likes so many things about Gabriel that piling them all together into one can’t be summed up by just the word ‘like’.

He likes the holiness, the way the archangel is at times so celestial and other-worldly; he likes the way Gabriel uses magic for the sheer beauty of it. He likes the way sunlight looks going through that chestnut hair. He likes that Gabriel almost always knows when to talk and when to listen- attentive to what Sam needs to hear and what he needs to get out. He likes the way Gabriel gets defensive and snarky about everything, and he likes that Gabriel sticks with them despite everything between them. And, as much as he hates to admit it even to himself, he likes the pranks, the stupid love songs, the continual secret messages and games… He likes how the confusion and disbelief in Gabriel’s eyes is currently giving way to delight.

“And don’t it feel good,” Gabriel sputters, and before he can make any further dumb eighties references, Sam wraps his arms around the archangel’s smaller body and hugs him so tightly his feet leave the ground. Gabriel takes advantage of this, after an initial “ _oh”_ of shock, by wrapping his legs around Sam’s hips and pulling himself up by Sam’s shoulders to cling there; from there it’s only a matter of seconds before they’re kissing, happily and eagerly.

Gabriel drags one hand away from Sam just enough to snap, and sunlight- pure, golden, sourceless- fills the room, along with the bridge of an all-too-familiar song. _“I feel alive, I feel the love, I feel the love that’s really real- I’m on sunshine, baby!”_ Sam can’t protest, partially because Gabriel’s tongue is _in his mouth_ , but more so because this time, he’s the one who started it.

He can’t bring himself to regret it.

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably the most ridiculous but sappy thing I've ever written~ Click the little "next in series" arrow for part three! Find me on tumblr- aleatoryw.tumblr.com


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